When worlds collide
by readerwholic
Summary: When two very different persons meet, it is as if laws of gravity are increased tenfold. When east meets west, worlds are bound to collide.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** **This is my entry for the age of Edward contest 2015. First contest I've ever been a part of, I almost didn't participate, but due dates were expanded and TADDAHHH.**

 **But seriously, none of this would have been possible if it weren't for an exceptional lady "NewTwilightFan".**

 **That woman was a godsend, I gave her a rock and she polished it and turned it into a gem, words will never be enough to describe how thankful I am, she's the best out there, she helped on so many aspects and made the story not only readable but enjoyable as well. So thank you so much.**

 **Guys! You should definitely check "Tracks ", her own entry for AOE contest , because yeah, she's not only an awesome beta but an even awsomer (that doesn't even exist, but you get my drift, hahaha) author, that's if you don't know her already, people enjoying great fanfics have her on their radars ( story and update alerts, same, right ?!).**

 **Back to WWC, in my head I have plans to continue it into a full length story, but at the moment I don't have the time to write it fully or even some chapters, university takes up most of my time, so maybe when school's done?!**

 **Not really promising I know but I can't do better, sorry. But stay tuned, you don't know what could happen!**

 **Thank you so much for all those who read, liked and reviewed the story, you people made me so happy.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own twilight, all of it belongs to SM, I only own Ecved and that's pretty awesome if you ask me.**

When worlds collide.

Isabella Marie of the house of Swan, daughter and only heir to Charles, king of England, embarked on the journey that would seal her fate, a fate that was decided long before. Being the only heir to the king, it was vital for her and her father's house to find a suitable match, to marry a powerful prince and join both nations. It put the king at ease, knowing an alliance of the sort would protect not only his daughter but his throne too.

When the sun cast its cold rays on a winter morning, the princess was set to take her leave from her home, her castle, her country, heading to Austria to meet Prince Ferdinand, her future husband. He was heir to the Roman throne, and would soon become king of England too by marriage. A match made in heaven, some would say, but it was not. It only satisfied the current thrones and satiated their hunger for expanding territories.

The princess and her maid were the only women to make the journey, escorted by a horde of guards for protection along the roads. They bid their farewells and shed a great many tears, then the princess and her armed escort disappeared down the bumpy road on the first leg of the journey that would end the eighteen years of her freedom. After a few days travel, they finally arrived at the coastline.

Princess Isabella looked back to the English territory from the ship that would take her to France. Looking back upon the lands where she was born and raised, she couldn't help but let the tears run freely down her face, but she promised herself, next time she returned, she would hold so much power that she would be able to protect her lands for many years to come.

The sail through the waters was more unnerving than anything else, and Isabella sighed her relief when touching her feet to the mainlands again. A long journey awaited them still, and they could not spare more time than necessary. They boarded the carriage and settled in for a long, overland journey to meet her betrothed.

"What is happening?" Isabella asked as the carriage jolted to a stop.

All she could hear was horses approaching, and swords being unsheathed. She took a small dagger from under her frock and got ready to defend herself. Few noblewomen could wield a weapon, but her father had, absent a son, indulged Isabella, teaching her basic skills and tricks with a dagger.

She hid the weapon behind her body, hoping to surprise her assailants and gain an advantage. Unfortunately, she was outmatched, and did little more than wound one of the attackers before she was disarmed and subdued. She looked about in horror as they dragged her from her carriage. Her guards lay about, dead or wounded, several already bound and chained.

She was both petrified and enraged, fearful of what would become of her kinsmen and her, but outraged about being attacked and unable to defend themselves.

"Let go of me! I am England's princess. You have no right to lay a hand on me," she cried, but they were already taking a hold of her.

The attackers were dressed in the strangest manner, with baggy trousers, long sleeved overcoats tied at the waist and odd headgear with metal gilt crowns and long flaps at the rear. The swords they carried were shorter than those of her homeland and had a marked curve. Some of the men wielded small daggers that also curved forward to a wicked point.

Princess Isabella could not identify their language. She knew it was neither Latin nor French, as she was fluent in both. Apart from the huge mustaches that adorned their faces, they didn't have any distinct marks to identify them.

"I'm asking you to let my maid and I go. Before long, search parties will be sent and..." but she stopped her rant mid-sentence for there was no one who was listening. The princess stayed composed while her maid Rose cried her eyes out.

With no knowledge of where they were being taken, they relied on the hope that Prince Ferdinand's party would raise the alarm when they did not reach the rendezvous point on the appointed day. The Roman party that was to meet them halfway was going to be their saving grace. Isabella spent the days and nights praying to the god above to set them free. After the initial attack, nobody was mistreated or killed, but the journey to the unknown was painful enough.

The journey came to an horses slowed their gallop and were lead through a massive gate. It emphasized the defensiveness of the fortress that lay ahead. Calligraphy written in golden ink adorned the top of the structure. Isabella couldn't understand what was written, but it was beautifully done. Colossal walls encompassed the whole palace, and that frightened the princess further. Once inside, she knew it would be hard to discover a way out.

A colourful courtyard with green hues and fountains lay on the other side of the door, such a contrast to the wilderness on the other side. It looked peaceful, soothing even. Everyone dismounted and the hostages were ushered along by silent servants dressed in long,finely tailored robes, their actions rapid maneuvers yet precise, they moved between the incomers with fluidity and dexterity.

Never, in all of her life, had Isabella seen anything remotely similar to this. A second gate stood up in front of them. This one was flanked by two large pointed towers, and there were inscriptions on this one also. The size of the edifice stunned her.

A man dressed in a fine-looking long tunic, surrounded by guards, approached the newcomers. The leader of the assailants stepped forward to tell him all the highlights of their mission.

"Hanım, özür dilerim…" the man could not finish his sentence, he was cut off by the princess.

"I do not understand a word of what you're saying. I am Princess Isabella of England. How dare you barbarians kidnap me? You have no right to keep me hostage. This will lead to war," she cried, her anger getting the best of her.

The man, who seemed to understand, finally answered, "I am sorry, miss. My men don't understand your language." In a very thick accent, he continued, "I am Jek pasha, and I am chief of army to the Ottoman Dynasty, and for now, you are our hostage. Welcome to Topkapi Sarayi, residence of the sultan of all sultans in all lands, commander of the world Ecved Mustafa Yavuz.

To say that Isabella was surprised was an understatement. She was shocked to the bones, for she was convinced that she would meet her death behind those walls. She had heard that the ones who controlled this side of the world were savages, although the castle before her hardly looked like the work of beasts.

"I demand to be released with my men and maid at this moment," she said rather harshly.

"I'm aware that you are irked by the turn of events, but only Ecved Sultan can decide what will become of you," he replied with an intrepid tone. "Meanwhile, don't worry, Princess Isabella. You and your maid will be treated with the utmost respect, and no harm will come to either of you while under our protection," he said with finality.

Isabella and her maid were led through the palace to what the princess later learned was a hamam- a steam-filled room where Ottomans take baths- by the head of the servants, an older woman whose stern face seemed to scare all the servants about the castle and sent them to their chores without so much as a word.

After being bathed, massaged and clothed, the princess was then escorted to a room where she would apparently be staying. Not knowing what to do, she looked around trying to figure the best actions to take from there. She didn't know how help was going to save them all. She felt she was too far away. It seemed as if they had been dragged to the end of the world, and no one could follow them there. At least Rose was with her. For that she was grateful. They would support each other until this ordeal ended.

Both women sat silent, seemingly deep in thought, until the princess was startled by a loud voice. The doors burst open, and she stood right away, while her maid bowed her head. A tall man with fair skin, the greenest eyes she had ever seen and reddish brown locks stood before her wearing a kaftan made from embroidered silk. His stature was powerful and intimidating.

"Princess Isabella, I am sincerely sorry for any discomfort you experienced during your travels. I am Ecved Mustafa Sultan," he said, keeping his composure, while admiring the woman standing in front of him. He was enraptured with her; with her warm brown eyes, silky brown hair, and petite figure. He had never seen such a beauty.

"Discomfort? I was kidnapped and held against my will!" she exclaimed, standing taller to show him she was not scared of him. Or rather she tried not to be scared; her shortened breath and her fast-beating heart showed she was, in fact, affrighted.

"Princess, with all due respect, you weren't treated in any harsh manner, and therefore you have nothing to complain about. As for your stay, I will discuss the matter with my council, and we will decide how long you are to be kept here." He was a little taken aback by the harshness of her words. None of his subjects dared to challenge him. His mother was the only person he allowed to speak to him in that manner, yet he tolerated it. After merely a minute in her company, Princess Isabella had arrested his attention more than any other woman he had ever encountered.

"I hope it won't be long. I have matters to attend to and none of them involve me being here," the princess said with a steady voice.

The sultan only smiled at her defensiveness, turned around and returned to his quarters, leaving a stunned looking princess behind. Both his attitude and, dare she admit, his handsomeness, had distracted her from her feelings of fear and anger.

Later that night, Ecved headed to his mother's apartment to have supper. After greetings were exchanged, the Sultan noted the princess's absence. He had expected her to share their meal that night.

"Where is Princess Isabella? Wasn't she offered an escort to bring her tonight?" Ecved inquired.

"Of course she was, but she refused, saying she preferred to eat with her maid," Esma sultan answered with a distasteful tone.

"Excuse me, validem." And then he left the Sultana's apartments. He was disgruntled, to say the least, and was going to voice how offended he was by the Princess's actions.

"I heard you refused to join us tonight, may I know why?" the sultan asked the bewildered looking Princess.

She was stunned. He couldn't really be asking that question, could he?

"I have no interest in sharing a meal with a sultan and his mother while I'm prisoner to said sultan." Isabella was more than happy to show her disagreement with the fuming Ottoman leader.

"I told you, princess, you are no prisoner in my castle but rather a guest," he answered in an exasperated tone. Their conversation was getting more heated by the moment.

"A guest? A guest who wasn't even invited here to begin with? A guest who stayed in this room the whole day not knowing what was to become of either her maid or herself? Excuse me, but those definitions don't exactly stand for the word guest, but maybe you don't possess books to teach you what a guest is or how they should be treated," she said insultingly.

The sultan laughed humourlessly at her. "Princess, I read more books than you ever did before you even learnt your calculations. Don't stand there belittling me while you don't even know who I am." He stormed from the room, the rush of air that ensued hitting Isabella's face as he slammed the door shut.

Isabella was far more acquainted with his retreating form than she had ever cared to be. This time she huffed in annoyance.

"He is turning me mad. Who does he think himself, taking us all by force, then coming in here and storming off that way?" Isabella said, incredulous.

"Well, Princess, perhaps he is used to have what he wants and hates the resistance you're showing," Rose, her maid analysed.

"If he expects me to bend to his will, he's in for a surprise," she said triumphantly.

On the morning of her second day of captivity, she was invited to a party taking place in the harem that evening. But the princess was more than hesitant to attend. She hadn't chosen to be there, after all. Why would she go to a party and be a willing participant in her takers' feast? And in a harem nonetheless, a room filled with women kept against their will to satisfy his highness's needs. That was degrading, inhuman and all together a crime.

She wasn't naive to the ways of monarchs in her own country. She even expected her betrothed to have a mistress once they married. It wasn't uncommon, after all, but it didn't mean she approved of the practice. But could she prevent her future husband from treating her so shamefully? She didn't have the answer to this question yet.

Additionally, her conversation with the king on yester night had left a bitter taste in her mouth. She didn't want to see him ever again.

On the other side of the castle, a party was being prepared. Close to three dozen servants bustled about the harem. The dinner was going to be a colourful affair. Entire lambs were roasted, a variety of kebaps were cooked, along with böreks, dolmas and the sultan's favourite - hünkar beğendi - lamb stew served on a bed of creamy mashed eggplant. But also baklava and künefe for those who had a sweet tooth. Delicious scents reached the castle gates and beyond.

The most beautiful girls of the harem were readied, for they were an even bigger part of the gathering. The ones who wanted to impress the sultan were going to dance and sing for his highness, and the one he chose would be a very important woman. She would be, after all, the first woman to share Ecved's sultan bed, and that was high festivities started, the delicious meals were being served, but the sultan and his mother were in a deep, private discussion.

Taking measured steps, Isabella decided to attend the party. She wanted to make her presence known and, more importantly, take stock of her surroundings. If she wanted to gain her freedom, she needed to assess the forces against her to be prepared in case help came her way.

She followed an eunuch through the castle's wide hallways, illuminated by torches, towards the source of loud music, chatter and laughter. The music, she had never heard such a tone, but it was pleasant; was it a violin she heard playing?

Everyone was finely dressed. The sultan sat in a throne which stood on a platform. It gave him prominence, even more than his attire did. He was wearing a velvet caftan woven with threads of gold. The older woman sat on his right side but below his propped position, her dress made from an equally beautiful silky fabric embroidered with silver. Her neck was adorned with a rich necklace, the sapphires shining. Her hair was pulled back neatly and crowned with a bronze tiara, diamonds glinting through the honey tresses.

The princess curtsied to the pair then allowed the eunuch to lead her to a corner where ornate cushions were spread out on colourful carpets along with low tables where she saw foods of all kinds laid out. She sat gracefully on one of the cushions. She had decided to play along and give them a false sense of security, while thinking of ways to contact Prince Ferdinand or her father.

Isabella looked around her. From her sitting position she had the perfect view of all the room. She could see the sultan facing her directly, and to her right sat a small gathering of women chatting and laughing away. In the back corner a trio of women played musical instruments. One held a long-necked plucked lute, another had a plucked zither and a third played a violin.

A young-looking woman sat beside her, smiling all the while. She was dressed as beautifully as the woman next to Ecved Sultan.

The young woman smiled and said, "You uumm Princess Isabella... me Aliye Yasemin Sultana. Ecved Sultan my brother, and Esma Sultan my mother."

She pointed to the Sultan and the woman next to him as she spoke. Isabella then realised that the older woman was the queen regent, or rather Sultan regent, and this girl next to her was her daughter.

"Yes, I am," Isabella said, almost compassionately, to the girl who seemed so eager to talk to her, but the Princess didn't have the heart for chatter. She was much more preoccupied by what was occurring in front of her.

Some girls, wearing beautiful taffeta dresses in all colours, their waists highlighted with burnished belts, started dancing in synchronised movements. They held long silk scarfs between their fingers, looking in the Sultan's direction, matching their bodies to the music sensually, as if trying to get his attention. She was astonished. Who would behave so in such a dire situation? How could they be this eager to serve him when he had all but ripped them from their homes and imprisoned them?

At that moment, she looked toward Sultan Ecved, whom she found looking back at her. His eyes burned through hers. He had an intense look on his face, solely focused on her, as if he had eyes only for her. At that moment Isabella's cheeks coloured.

"He must choose one. Rite of passage," Aliye declared, distracting Isabella from where she looked.

Isabella's frown deepened. "So, you're telling me we're all here so we can witness his highness choosing someone to bed! The poor girls dancing isn't humiliation enough?" Isabella scoffed at herself for choosing to be part of such a rite. In her defence, she hadn't known what it was about, but now she did, she couldn't stay a minute longer.

She stood and found her way back to her room. Once there, she knew she could be more at ease.

"Princess!" she heard as she reached her room. She stopped, then turned to face the Sultan.

"Why are you in such a hurry?"

"I had seen enough of the masquerade going on. I don't want to keep you from making such an important decision. Now if you'll excuse me," she said and turned to leave, but Ecved caught her arm, stopping her.

"Princess, neither of us know what happens behind closed doors in the others' court. While you're here, I would like for you to learn more about us. See for yourself," Ecved Sultan said, letting go of her arm. He had decided that it would be better for everyone if they got along for the duration of her stay, and he wanted, just a little, to know this foreign, infuriating and magnificent woman.

"I think I know enough," she exclaimed, not knowing how to voice her frustration.

"Trust me, you don't," he responded, trying to persuade her.

"Well I don't trust you to begin with, so that decides it," the princess replied in utter ire.

"You're so stubborn, Princess," he said with a crooked smile. "We have a library in the third court of the castle; I'd like to show you what I read."

"You are not letting go of the matter, are you?"

"No, I am not," he stated.

"Lead the way, then. Let's get this over with and see this fancy library of yours," she finally conceded, to the Sultan's elation.

The library was in a separate building, the exterior coated completely in marble. The building was built in the form of a Greek cross with a central dome.

"There are more than three thousand manuscripts here," the Sultan said proudly.

The Princess tried to hide her astonishment at hearing that statement. he hadn't believed the Ottomans could possess such a quantity of books.

"The subjects vary from science to literature and religion. I learnt most of what I know from these books, and on the nights when sleep doesn't find me, and I'm not crafting jewelry, I come here and read," he told her truthfully.

"You craft jewelry?" She was truly surprised.

"Yes, it teaches me patience. I came here to Istanbul when I was seven. Then, I received lessons from many great masters. On this day, I speak seven different languages, and I still crave learning more and more, but my escape has always been working on gems and metals, shaping them into something new," he opened up more to her. "What about you, Princess?"

"I am Isabella Marie of the house of Swan, and I am my father's only daughter and heir. I knew early on that one day I would be called to make sacrifices for my kingdom. I was educated following that notion."

"What were you asked to sacrifice If I may ask?" Ecved interjected.

"It was to ally my kingdom with another by marriage, a union I had no say in." Isabella said with a sigh. The Sultan was stunned by this revelation, that the Princess was ready to sacrifice her happiness for her duty, showed him she was far more stronger than he thought her to be, he was even more amazed by her.

"Be that as it may, I took lessons in different matters. I learnt French and Latin from a tender age as if they were my mother languages. I also received lectures in logic, philosophy - which I loved very much, music and mathematics, but what I loved most was literature. I loathe knitting or sewing, but I fancy horse riding, and I did it more often than not," Isabella smiled wistfully.

"Would you like to do that? Ride a horse, I mean."

Now she looked at him, enthused by the prospect of galloping again. Her answer was written all over her face.

"I'll take you tomorrow afternoon to a stroll around the castle on horseback."

Isabella wanted nothing more than to reach out her hand and touch her fingers to his, but she resisted that urge, settling on a thank you instead.

They conversed more and learnt new things about each other; that he was five years her senior with his one and twenty springs, that they both enjoyed poetry, loved the nature that surrounded them and preferred nothing more than the calm of the night and its twinkling stars.

From that night on, they met frequently, and discovered more about each other. Between the castle's walls, Ecved showed Isabella every aspect of his lifestyle. In those moments they weren't sovereigns anymore. They were Ecved and Isabella, and that freed both of them from so many constraints, if only for mere hours.

One of the most important things Isabella learnt was the truth about the harem. It was an small, organised society within the castle walls. The women weren't all there to be the sultan's concubines. Most of them were laborers, their chores varying from educating the sultan's family heirs, to cooking, sewing and tending to everyone's needs. They also could rise through, ranks making them powerful.

Three weeks after they arrived in Istanbul, Rose stood worrying, waiting on her Princess to return from one of her 'field trips', as she liked to call them. Right then Isabella entered her room tiptoeing so as not to wake her maid.

"Princess! Thank the god above. I was worried about you. You were later than usual. I thought something bad had happened to you, Princess. Worse, I feared you had been forced into actions you wanted no part in!" Rose exclaimed all at once.

Isabella didn't understand at first, but then it dawned on her. "Rose, no! There was nothing of the sort. He would never," Isabella defended. "We just lost our sense of time between history pages, that is all." But she blushed nonetheless at her maid's suggestion.

"It seems you, my Princess, are starting to trust the Sultan" Rose stated, matter of factly.

"Ecved is not what everyone thinks him to be," Isabella responded with a sigh.

"Come, Princess, you have to take your rest. The sun is rising, and you have yet to sleep," Rose said, noting that Isabella had begun to call the Sultan by his given name only.

Ecved was putting the finishing touches on his latest creation. This piece of jewelry was his best work yet, and he couldn't wait to give it to the woman who had inspired smile wistfully while perfecting the edges.

He was suddenly interrupted by one of his men. "Sorry your highness, but a man from the western land came bearing a message addressed to you, Sultan. He is waiting for your arrival in the council hall." The smile fell from Ecved's face and a frown appeared in its stead.

The messenger stood before the Sultan and his vizirs carrying a message. A message that left Ecved devoid of any emotion, a message that made him return to reality from the reverie he had lived the last few days, a message that ended his wishful thinking. His heart plummeted. He wanted to take his sword and rip everything within reach to express the rage within him, but he had one last thing to do first. He took a deep breath to lock his feelings deep inside and summoned Isabella to his council room. He sat upon his throne, waiting for her to arrive.

"Princess, welcome" Ecved said, encouraging her to come closer. "A messenger arrived today. He was sent from Prince Ferdinand."

The Princess was shocked to hear this. She no longer expected help to arrive. She had forgotten there was a world outside of the palace. She didn't even recall how many days had passed since she had arrived there .

"He said he was ready to start a war to come and rescue you," the Sultan stated. "But I told the messenger it was not necessary. The council and I decided it would be best to send you back peacefully without dispute. A troop will arrive in a two weeks, in time for the messenger to reach them and tell them of the plans," the sultan said in a monotone voice, with a touch of bitterness, almost as if reciting a lesson he had just learnt.

Isabella was at loss of words. Everything was jumbled in her head. She was completely overwhelmed by the development of events.

Ecved understood that she was probably too excited to speak. She was returning to what was familiar to her, to be with those whom she already considered to be her people. An impending wedding awaited her, a new home, a new throne and a future husband.

"Is that all, Sultan?" she finally managed to say. She waited for more, needing him to say something, she didn't know what precisely, but she wished anyway.

"Yes," he responded, hesitating only a moment, before adding, "You may go back to your room."

Isabella was dismissed in what she felt was the worst manner possible. She almost ran all the way back. She entered her room breathless and teary-eyed.

"What is it, Princess?" Rose said.

"Ferdinand will come and get us all in a fortnight."

"Princess, that's excellent news you bring!" Rose said, almost jumping in happiness. "Aren't you happy we'll finally be set free?"

"You call it freedom? I am to marry a man I know nothing of; to please everyone but myself, as I have done my whole life." Letting her tears fall, she carried on, "He's not setting me free, he is condemning me." She then started sobbing, to her maid's utter bewilderment.

Days passed and both Ecved Sultan and Princess Isabella seemed to be just shells of their former selves. They met only twice again on their nightly quests for more learning, before the day she was to depart. All they did on those nights was stare at the stars and moon in complete silence, neither knowing what to say.

Isabella couldn't figure why she was so sad to leave Topkapı Sarayı. It was, after all, what she had wanted since setting foot there, but a feeling all too foreign to her took residence in her chest and made her tear at every occasion.

It didn't help that Ecved had returned to his old cold self. He seemed to have regained his routines with no big effort. From her perspective, he had already forgotten about her, while he was all she thought of.

"Princess, may I see you for a few minutes?" Ecved interrupted her deep thinking. She hadn't even noticed when he had entered the room.

"Of course, Sultan."

"Since this is your last night in this castle, I wanted to tell you that meeting you was the best thing to ever happen to me. Isabella, getting to know the real you was a great pleasure," he said wholeheartedly, his words fervent, touching Isabella to her core.

"You, too." Now she fought to keep her tears at bay. She couldn't say more. She felt choked up and couldn't form any more words.

"I also wanted to offer you this token so you would remember your time here, if you accept it, that is." Then he opened a crafted wooden box where lay the most beautiful pair of earrings. "I made them myself. When I saw the emeralds, I thought they would look stunning on you and started working on them immediately."

A lone tear fell down Isabella's cheek. "They're so beautiful. Of course I will them proudly,"she said, touching the flower design delicately. She would hold onto them dearly, the green of the stones reminding her of Ecved's eyes.

"The tulips represent the Ottoman Dynasty. You are right, they are lovely, but they can't compare to your beauty, Princess." He left abruptly, afraid he would shed the tears that stung his eyes. He had not cried since he was a babe and didn't plan to change that in front of a woman who wasn't even his. That left him in a sour state.

The Princess didn't blink an eye the whole night. Neither did Ecved. They both lay, wallowing in their rooms, too caught up in their own minds to realise the sun had risen.

The troop arrived at the castle, and Isabella was summoned to witness the discussion between Ecved Sultan and Ferdinand. Upon entering the inner council hall, she immediately spotted Ecved. He was sitting on a canopied throne. That morning he had donned a silver embroidered, blue velvet kaftan. On his head he wore an ottoman white turban, the front clasped with a broach that had a similar outline to her earrings. His eyes were more prominent than ever. She couldn't help but withdraw from her surroundings and think only about the man sitting across the room from her. He was a vision to behold, and her heart stopped its beats all together.

Prince Ferdinand stood in front of the Sultan with his back to Isabella, oblivious to what was happening around from him. When he realised he lost the sultan's attention to something behind him, he turned around, seeing that Princess Isabella was standing there, silent.

"Princess!" Ferdinand said, bowing his head.

Isabella snapped out of her stupor and bowed back formally, then stood staring. He hadn't changed much since the last time she had seen him, except for the beard and mustache he was growing. He was shorter than Ecved, but still taller than her. Ferdinand had blond hair and cold blue eyes, where Ecved's were warm and green.

She couldn't believe that this was it, that she was going to follow Ferdinand home to Austria, and they would marry and rule both his country and hers. She looked at Ecved, but his face was neutral, showing no trace of emotion, looking exactly like the all-powerful Sultan who was feared by so many.

Little did she know that all the while, he was praying silently that his torment would be over soon, that the sleepless night would end and his aching lungs would finally be allowed to breathe.

"We are set to leave in a few minutes, Princess. Go fetch your maid so we can be on our way," said Ferdinand dismissively. Ecved had an inclination to rip his head off for talking to her in such a manner, but she wasn't his, and he had no say in the matter.

Isabella wanted to respond, to say that he didn't have the right to order her around, that she would do what suited her. However, she could not find the strength. She felt defeated on so many levels. She left the hall with no words, heading to her room for one final time.

"Rose, it's time."

The maid wanted nothing more than to console the Princess, but she didn't know how to proceed. She thought her lady's marriage to the Prince would bring her the joy she deserved.

When they returned to the council hall, Isabella was dismayed to see that Ecved's throne was vacant. "Where is Ec... the Sultan?" she inquired.

"He went back to his apartments. He said he had matters to attend to," Prince Ferdinand replied.

"Alright, then. Let's get on our way, shall we?" she asked. Then she continued under her breath, "He didn't even bid me farewell." She was disappointed, sad and furious all at once.

When entering the main hall that led to the castle gates, Isabella stopped all of a sudden then turned around and ran.

"Princess! Where are heading?" Ferdinand exclaimed.

"I'll go after her," said Rose, already following the Princess.

Isabella disappeared through the castle's courts, fleeing through hallways to reach her destination, shocking everyone in her wake. But she didn't care in the least. She was on a quest, and none would deter her from it.

The doors to Ecved's rooms opened without his permission, and he was ready to screech at whomever intruded, but when he saw her standing there, teary-eyed and breathless, he stopped instantly.

"You couldn't come and say goodbye, even when you knew that we would never meet again, that this was the last time we would see each other," she managed to say through her tears and laboured breaths.

"What would it change? Soon you'll be married and more powerful than ever. You'll forget this mishap soon enough, so why say goodbye?" He could already see the powerful woman she would become. She would be a prodigious queen, wife and mother, and those thoughts pained him.

"It wasn't a mishap. It was the best experience to ever happen to me." She dashed to him and hugged him with all her will.

He soon returned her embrace, all too eager to reciprocate her gesture.

"Stay." "I don't want to go," they said at the same time, then started laughing and embraced again with even more force.


	2. Chapter 1: karar anı

**A/N : Hello again m** **y lovelies! I missed you all so much and I missed my dear characters, they were begging me to write the rest of their story, but real life kept coming in the way, now that I'm done with school for the summer, I hope that we're set to finish this story.**

 **This was beta'ed by the amazing NewTwilightFan, that woman is a godsend, I don't know how she does it, I don't know how she keeps up with me, just thank you so much for all the work you put into this. THANK YOU!**

 **As for the posting, I don't have a precise schedule, I'm a bit of a slow writer and pretty new at this so I'll try to post as many times as I can, I promise.**

 **Disclaimer: I have a huuuuge announcement to make, twilight is MINE... no, sorry; it actually isn't, it's all SM's sooooo yeah, but I have a pretty cool collection of pencils from H to B scales, impressive right?!**

 **I added a couple of words after NewTwilightFan arranged my mess, and with my luck those would be the only messed up thing about this chapter so all mistakes are mine, I'll let you go, for now.**

 **GO.**

Chapter 1 : karar anı, the moment of truth.

"How will this work? I don't know how my father will react. And there's Ferdinand and his own father, dear god!" Isabella starts pacing, affected by the enormity of the situation.

"I know it's overwhelming, but you don't have to be scared of any of them. Tell me you'll stay with me, and I'll fight the entire universe for you. Tell me you'll be mine, my Sultan." Ecved says, reaching for her to soothe her.

Isabella, scared at the prospect of Ecved facing her father and fighting him for her sake, becomes even more upset.

"Look at me, princess," he says lovingly. "Breathe. Close your eyes, and breathe deeply."

Isabella obliges.

The simple act of breathing calms her nerves. She opens her eyes, finding Ecved's attentive ones looking up at her. She sees care and gentleness dancing in them, but also fear; fear of what, she can't quite guess. Does he fear war, or the unknown path their lives will take? She had never thought she would such an emotion on Ecved's face. She did not know that the possibility of losing her was the cause of his fright.

Looking between his ever-green eyes, she realises that she wants to look at them for the rest of her life. She knows, deep down inside, she will never tire of the sight. The thought of infants with those same eyes flit through her mind, and she delights in it.

"This may open hell's doors upon us, but it is with great joy that I accept to stay by your side, as your sultan." Isabella finally says, with tears in her eyes.

Ecved's happiness cannot be contained. He laughs, a rich sound in which Isabella relishes, and takes her in his arms again. "Thank you, beautiful princess! You have made me the happiest man on this planet."

"But how are we going to convince my father, and more importantly, how will we make Ferdinand leave?" Isabella asks as she tries to figure every possible outcome of the situation.

"I have an excellent idea; you should return to the main hall as if nothing happened," Ecved says, grinning from ear to ear, knowing all too well his stubborn princess will have none of this.

"What? Aren't you going to share your plans with me?" Isabella asks, taken aback by being put aside.

"The less you know the better. Your surprise will be genuine. Trust me; it's nothing grandiose, only an ancient ruse." He tries to soothe away her worries.

"Don't make it a habit to keep me uninformed. I don't like it."

"I would not, my princess. I would never," he promises happily, pleased at the idea of their futures bound as one.

With one final look at Ecved's smiling face, Isabella exits his chamber, immediately meeting Rose's worried gaze from where she stands behind Ecved's guards.

"Princess! What happened to make you run this way? I was worried," Rose asks, fretting.

"I cannot talk of it right now, Rose. I will tell you all later. Let us be on our way," the princess says, trying to reassure her maid.

They both return to the party that was to take them to their new home. There Ferdinand stands with a far from welcoming frown on his face.

"Isabella, what has you running about like a madwoman and without telling me of your whereabouts?" Ferdinand asks. There is an edge to his voice that Isabella finds repellent.

"I…" Isabella thought desperately for an excuse to cover what had really happened. "I thought that I forgot my mother's locket, but Rose reminded me it is safely tucked away in my jewelry box inside one of the chests. I guess I was scared that I could have left behind something so valuable and dear to me."

"Take care that you act with more decorum in the future. Do not embarrass me in front of my men like that ever again. Now, shall we go?" Ferdinand says, although his question has the feel of a command, more than a request.

The gates to the castle stand open before them, and Isabella's heartbeat quickens. There is still no sign of Ecved, and she gets slightly afraid of what he might have planned.

She need not have worried, for mere seconds later, a voice is heard, loud and clear, saying, "Kapıları kapatın! No one is departing from my castle."

The guards bow their heads to their sultan and then start to close the doors. Ferdinand and his men reach for their weapons, hands hovering above hilts as they look around frantically. They are ready to draw their swords and fight.

"What is happening here? I thought we had your permission to depart." Ferdinand says menacingly, while Isabella stands, still watchful of everyone's movements, knowing all too well that this could turn into bloody chaos.

"Jek pasha has informed me that you, Prince Ferdinand, have not delivered the bride price due upon accepting Princess Isabella as your betrothed. I hold King Charles in too high esteem to allow his most treasured daughter to pass into your hands without assurance that he is still amenable to the arrangement. As a talented, beautiful and dutiful daughter, her value is already beyond measure. As the king's sole child and the heir to the throne of England, I cannot allow the princess to leave my custody until her own father comes for her."

Rose's breath hitches, whereas Isabella tries valiantly to contain the smile that threatens to bloom upon her face.

Ferdinand advances towards Ecved. The sultan draws himself to his full height, dismissing the guards who hurry to block Ferdinand's path.

"What makes you think you have that kind of power? She is my promised; therefore I am taking her with me. You will not dare stop me. Such an insult would ignite a war." Ferdinand's threat falls flat before the powerful sultan.

"War? You threaten me with death and destruction? Have you forgotten where you are? You stand within the walls of my castle. You stand on my land. My people will tear you to pieces before you'd even cross the gates, that's if there will be any of you left after I'm done with you. There will be no war. If you and your men were to disappear, no man, be he peasant or king, would dare challenge me, I am Ecved sultan, Padişah ve Hünkar-i-hanedan-i Al-i Osman and I will only repeat myself once. Princess Isabella will remain under my protection until her father stands before me and says otherwise."

"You cannot do that," Ferdinand replies, seething.

His tone scares Isabella. He looks angry enough to commit murder. What if he manages to stab Ecved in an act of fury?

"Yes I can, and I will. Take a message to King Charles so that he might come for his daughter," Ecved states simply, motioning for the foreign prince to depart with his retinue.

"When I return with his majesty, you will sing a different tune, Ecved Sultan," he says with a sneer, conceding but promising revenge with his underlying tone.

"I will be waiting," Ecved says with finality.

 **Kapıları kapatın : Close the doors.**

 **Padişah ve Hünkar-i-hanedan-i Al-i Osman: Emperor** **and sovereign of the sublime house of Osman.**

 **See you next time, review, say what you think. Love you all. I'm out!**


	3. Chapter 2: Valide bereket

**A/N: Hey! It's me again. Hope you're still along for this ride. As always this was betaed by NewTwilightFan, without whom I'm lost, her spot on remarks and efficient editing make this a great read; at least for me; haha.**

 **I'd like to thank my dear friend and fellow author Rose B. Mashal aka Cozitrunsinmyblood from some precious advice she bestowed on me last week, love ya lots!**

 **By the way the second installment of her trilogy is out, so make sure to check out "WHITE LOCKS" by Rose B. Mashal, it's a great story, just check it out, and If you haven't read already read the first book of the series, go ahead it's "BLACK KEYS", it's free for a limited time, you're clicks away from an amazing tale.**

 **Without further ado, here comes chapter 2, enjoy!**

Chapter 2: Valide bereket, Mother blessing.

After the debacle, Ferdinand commands his men to retreat. A raucousness echoes then through the first courtyard of the palace.

Isabella stands there watching the men saddle their horses, Ferdinand barking out orders, his soldiers hastening their movements in order to evade his wrath. The princess can't move, out of fear that Ferdinand wouldn't depart the palace peacefully, she regards his every move, tries to decipher what he tells his second in command, fruitlessly, due to the long distance that stood between her and the pair. Suddenly, she sees Ferdinand approaching her with a untruthful smile painted on his features, her breathing quickens as she feels sweat dripping out of every pore in her body, she tries to regain her composure and straightens her back unwilling to show him an ounce of the fear she feels of what he might do at this moment, several scenes fleeting her mind.

"We'll come for you and we'll kill the bastard."He says through gritted teeth when reaching her, his entire being shaking from the anger he tries to conceal, he then, turns back and rejoins his regiment without uttering another word.

Isabella stands frozen, her breathing labored, what if she decided to go, would that prevent Ferdinand from harming Ecved? She was shaken out of her state by Rose, who guided her towards where the sultan was standing.

"Isabella, meleğim, what is it?" he asks, worried about his beloved, while fighting against his desire to take her in his arms and soothe away her worries.

"He's going to kill you. He's going to take you away from me," she says in a shaky voice.

"He won't, princess. He will die trying. If he thinks he can face me in combat and win, he is sorely mistaken; I learnt how to fight since I could hold a sword in my hands by great masters of warfare. " The sultan tries to reassure her. "Come, let the maids get you settled again, lunchtime is fast approaching. We will eat in Valide Sultan's quarters in order to explain the new developments, and shall start planning our strategy as soon as you are well rested."

"The sooner we start the better we are prepared." she says with resolve, as she calms some.

Lunchtime in Esma Sultan's quarters is, of course, always a grand affair. So many colours and scents, it can be overwhelming. But none of it has Isabella's attention; who wonders how the sultan's mother will react to their decision. She feared her disapproval, but was ready to face it, as she was ready to fight the world to be with the man she wanted.

"Destur,sultan Ecved Han hazretleri!"

As the eunuch announces Ecved's entrance in a firm voice that resonates through the walls, everyone stops their chores to bow. The sultan's mother and sister stand, waiting for him, Isabella following his steps with a grace and strength that mirror his own. As usual, Esma Sultan is a vision of refined splendour, dressed in a beautiful flowy chiffon dress, her hands shimmering with jewelled rings. An ornate tiara adorns her head, sparkling with gemstones. To her left stands Aliye, looking lovely, and trembling with a barely contained excitement.

"Validem." Ecved says while kissing his mother's hand, the women curtsey to each other.

"I heard about what happened with Prince Ferdinand. I understand you not sending Princess Isabella away with a man who is practically a stranger to her based on our principles, but why the sudden change of heart? You could have spared him the trouble of coming all the way here," Esma Sultan inquires while everyone finds seats on cushions set around a round floor table.

"Well, we came here to announce something very important, mother, and that will answer all of your questions." At his tone, Esma sultan orders her maids out with only a movement of her head.

"Isabella and I have decided to bind ourselves to each other by marriage," Ecved announces proudly while looking at his mother, searching her features for her response.

She is shocked to say the least, but not totally surprised, having seen the various interactions between her son and the Princess. She had guessed that an attachment was growing between them, but to go as far as marriage was beyond her expectations.

"Son, as much as I want to give you my blessings, I cannot say I am completely happy with it." At this Isabella smiles bitterly, she felt Esma Sultan wouldn't approve of such a thing, but in that moment she doesn't worry she is a true fighter at heart and won't let anyone dictate her life anymore thus she prepares herself to answer accordingly, but Esma sultan's words interrupt her.

"I am not offended by your choice of bride, Far from it, I am rather scared of the outcome of such a union. It is not only about a Muslim man and a Catholic woman marrying, but about two very different nations, who have been fighting for centuries, being bound. I see no wrong in that, as long as you two yearn for each other. I've always been a romantic at heart. Maybe that did not show much, because the rules in the harem said as much, but love is what directed most, if not all, of my decisions. It was difficult, and I had to battle for the simplest of things. If would expect to meet disapproval from many others, starting with your father, Isabella."

"I know my father will not be agreeable at first, but hopefully, when I talk to him, he will be able to understand," Isabella says, breaking the silence that reigned following Esma sultan's confession.

"And I plan to show him the benefits to having me as an ally in Ferdinand's stead. Maybe that will quell his desire to kill me when he discovers what we have decided." His statement is met with nervous laughter, which quickly fades when Isabella speaks.

"He would have to kill me first," she vows, while looking into Ecved's eyes.

"I would not allow him to harm you my sultan. Though he is your father, Isabella, I will not let him lay a wrongful hand on you," he responds with equal intensity, taking her small hand in his.

Esma Sultan cannot help but marvel at the look of love and complete adoration between her son and Isabella, thus she proudly announces, "Son, come kiss my hand. You and your beautiful bride have my blessing and my entire support."

At this Aliye claps, finally letting out the excess of energy burning through her.

"Now, now, tell me everything!" Esma exclaims, more than ready to hear about her son's plans for his future.

"Nothing is set in stone thus far, validem. We are going to take some time, just the two of us, to think everything through, and we will share our plans with you later on."

"A wedding in Topkapı Sarayı... Wonderful!" Aliye exclaims joyfully, clapping her hands together.

"Aliye, promise us you will not say a word of this to any other soul. It is very important we keep this between us for the moment being, söz mu?" Ecved looks at his younger sister, conveying the importance of the promise he needs her to make.

"Merak etmeyin hünkarım." Aliye concedes, her enthusiasm diminishing clearly as she regains her poise.

"Meanwhile, I shall do my best to communicate the situation to my father so that he accepts my decision." Isabella announces, the wheels already spinning in her head.

 **Meleğim: My angel.**

 **Destur!sultan Ecved Han hazretleri: Make way! His magnificence sultan Ecved Han.**

 **Validem: My mother.**

 **Söz mu? : Do you promise?**

 **Merak etmeyin hünkarım: Don't worry my sultan.**

 **Review, leave me some loving, byeeee, I'm out.**


	4. Chapter 3: Itiraf zamanı

**A/N : Hey, hey, hey ! How are you doing lovely people? I know I'm doing great, you guys stroke my ego like no others. I was blown away by the amount of follows and favourites I've gotten the last few days.**

 **Thank you to all those who read, reviewed, followed and favourited ! You made me soooo happy. I'd love for you guys to interact with me some more, tell me what you think!**

 **As always, thank you to one exceptional lady without whom any of this would have been possible, she polishes everything and shapes it greatly, bow down to NewTwilightFan, long live Maggie !**

 **As you all must know by now I don't own twilight, it's all SM's, but I've gotten myself a great lipstick yesterday in this mean pink, I just love it.**

 **Without further ado.**

Chapter 3: Itiraf zamanı, confession time.

"Isabellam, are you certain you want to start right away? This day has been full of surprises. Are you not overwhelmed?" Ecved inquires, worried about Isabella's welfare.

They are in his quarters. His private rooms are impressive, reflecting his status. In the center of his bed chamber stands a massive four poster bed with the fairest looking silk dangling around it. Equally beautiful golden covers adorn the bed, made of the softest velvet and filled with the lightest of feathers, and pillows of different sizes dress it. Lavish rugs give the floor an extravagant appearance, with thousands of gold and purple threads woven into an intricate pattern.

As she stands, turning her head from left to right, assessing the space, Isabella marvels at the magnificence of the decorations. Even though she is royalty herself, this lifestyle is beyond anything she has ever witnessed before. Here, everything seems almost magical.

"I would be lying if I said I am not, but the sooner I get it all into perspective, the more efficient I am in finding solutions," she says, finally answering his inquiry. She releases the breath she has been holding and turns her head to where Ecved sits on a gold and purple coloured divan set directly next to his bed.

"Don't worry about it, meleğim, we will face everything together. We will stand against all threats and rise anew every time someone tries to bring us downward," he adds, in order to diffuse the tension they both feel.

As confident as he appears to be, doubt niggles at the back of his mind. What if Isabella decides life on this side of the world is not worth the while? What if her father does not approve of it? Ecved would go to war for her, but is he really ready to sacrifice the lives of thousands of innocents for one woman? But not just any woman; the woman he loves and cannot imagine a future where she does not stand alongside him. And for that, he is torn.

"What did you call me? What does it mean?" Curiosity gets the better of her. Isabella still understands very little of what is being said around her, and she feels equal parts frustration and stupidity.

Pulled out of his musings, he stands and approaches her. Taking her hands in his, Ecved explains, "'Meleğim', it means my angel, because you are. You came to me when I did not expect you. Your light shone through my darkest moments and unveiled to me feelings I did not know were in store for the likes of me." He wants her to know the extent of the feelings he holds for her in his heart, fearing his overdue confession will sway her sentiments toward him.

"I really need to start learning the language; I think some of the servants might be saying nonsense around me."

"I shall teach you myself, do not fret. And nobody shall dare as much as breathe wrong in your presence if they cherish their heads," he says. His words are harsh, but he trusts she understands the simplicity of his promise. He means to give her the world.

"So where should we start?" she asks shakily as he stands before her, mere inches separating them.

Isabella cannot help but look deeply into his eyes and wonder if they will ever succeed. She knows she cannot be happy until she belongs to him and claims him as her husband. She needs to sort through the mess of thoughts in her brain and devise a strategy to secure her happily-ever-after alongside the handsome man in front of her.

Ecved feels lost, and his trepidation is clear on his face. How should he start a discussion that will engender the most painful moments of his life? For he knows that when she hears the truth, she will shatter his heart to pieces. Yet if he conceals the truth, the consequences of her discovering his secret at a later date will be dire. So he offers, "Let us go back to the beginning of the events, then."

"That is a bright idea." And so she thinks, until she sees worry lines appear on his face. "What is the matter?" she says, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm her racing heart.

Ecved turns away and takes two halting steps. The guilt eats deeper into his soul with every passing minute. He cannot look into his love's innocent and trusting eyes without feeling he has treated her cruely. "I should have told you this days ago, weeks ago, but I am a coward. When your betrothed arrived to claim you, a part of me was relieved. I am ashamed to say, I was almost grateful that his arrival spared me the humiliation and pain of revealing my true nature to you. When I believed you would be departing soon, I saw no reason to hurt you, to frighten you further."

"Now you are starting to frighten me; really." Isabella reaches out to the sultan, but he takes another step, his tense figure just out of reach. He is indeed scaring her. She sees the distress in the set of his shoulders, and she struggles to guess the reason behind his sombre state. The dress she wears constricts her breathing even more, and her nervous fingers tangle in the chiffon fabric at her sides.

"Your abduction was planned," he finally says, standing as rigid as a statue. He does not even blink, fearing that any motion will catalyse her anger, or worse, her hatred.

"What?" Now she is possessed by a silent rage. She feels her world crumbling around her, betrayed by the man she thought was her everything.

The stillness that follows is maddening to both. You can almost hear the thoughts that race, screaming through their minds. Isabella cannot believe her ears. She wants reassurance. She needs Ecved to tell her something, anything, to make her sudden despair disappear. Meanwhile, Ecved cannot even form a coherent thought. He feels his dreams of sharing his life with Isabella slipping away when, mere moments ago, heaven seemed within his reach.

He opens his mouth and utters the only truth that matters in that moment. "I planned the abduction and ransom of the heir to the English throne, but I did not plan to fall in love with her," he says as calmly as possible. Turning at last to face her, he raises his head, pouring out his feelings for her through his eyes. He prays that the honesty and openness of his gaze can salvage the trust they built over the preceding weeks.

Although she is prisoner to his eyes, she does not want to listen anymore. Her hands tremble, a slight quiver touches her lips. "You brought me here for a purpose, you kept me for a purpose," Isabella says, her voice deafening after the near silence.

How could she be so naive, she asks herself. People like him are not capable of love. Entitled. Masters of every man, woman and child within their borders. Their worlds were so different. How did she expect him to hold her in his heart?

"I was prepared to let you go. My mind was made up. The purpose for which I brought you here no longer mattered. When I first held your gaze, all that my council and I had discussed evaporated, and I only wanted to know you; to be near you. I longed to keep you for me and only me, but knew it was all too selfish. Thus my peaceful acceptance of Ferdinand's arrival." He feels a visceral need to make her understand the depth of his feelings, that she became his entire world, his very reason for existing.

As her silent tears flow, she manages to choke out, "If I had not come back to you this morning, would you have let me go?"

She feels drained, completely exhausted. All that has happened so far is closing in on her. She fears her knees will give way any moment. She wants to give up, to stop fighting her body's urges and fall to the ground. She wants her mind's activity to halt, to cease functioning completely.

"I would have let you pass through the castle gates. But my heart would not have survived your departure. I never would have allowed you to cross the borders of the ottoman lands," he admits, drawing closer to where she stands. He wishes he could have his arms around her and kiss away her fears, but he fears her reaction. Her posture is stiff and guarded. His touch is no longer welcome.

"Did you really mean it?" Looking at him, she searches for any sign of falsehood.

"I would have ridden my fastest horse and come after you," he says wholeheartedly, without hesitation. He feels that his heart is about to stop working all together.

"No, what you said before about your unplanned feelings..."

"I would never lie about that. I love you, Isabellam, so, so much," He can no longer contain his need to touch her. He advances slowly and takes her face gently between his hands.

"Oh, Ecved, I have come to love you too. I never thought I would, but it all happened at once." She carries on, "Of course you came across as arrogant in the beginning, with a harem full of women reserved for you to do God knows what to them."

At her statement, the tension evaporates, and he bends at the waist, laughing hysterically "I can't breathe!" he gasps as tears of mirth fall from his eyes.

"So why did you plan my abduction?" Isabella tries to stop him with a serious question. She feels as if he is laughing at her, and she does not like that at all.

"Oh..." He pauses, but Isabella is relieved that he has at least stopped laughing. A small smile appears on her face as she waits for his explanation.

The sultan, who never stumbles on his words, is pained to explain why he planned this beautiful woman's capture. Recovering his composure, he goes to the far right corner where a table is set with a map on it, a small escritoire and chair next to it, all the while trying to form a somewhat coherent sentence to explain it all.

"We have an everlasting discord with the Hapsburgs. Ferdinand, being at the head of the house after his father's abdication, became our main focus. When we heard of the upcoming nuptials, which would unite forces of Austria and England, we knew it was our time to move. You see here?" He says, pointing to a territory on the map, moving some iron pieces around. Isabella approaches him to get a better view of the map. "This is Mohács. It was a part of the Ottoman territories since Kanuni Sultan Süleyman conquered it. Sultan Kamal, my father, was killed there by a traitor, who then helped the Hapsburgs take it. I made it my sole purpose to regain this land, to reclaim my father's body, to honour his memory and bury him properly next to our ancestors, so he could finally rest in peace. Of course, the Hapsburgs would give neither back and wanted Beograd also in exchange for what remains of my father, but I would not lose both of those important locations. I knew if we fought hard enough, we would have Mohács back, although it would not bring me my father, so we wanted to bargain you, against my father and Mohács' return."

Isabella realises then, that it is not a matter of departing or no, it is not a matter of loving unconditionally, it is a matter of fighting for what you believe in, what is worth the while and at the end of the day, love does not always conquer.

 **Isabellam: My dear Isabella.**

 **Make sure to visit my twitter page: readerwholic , I post pictures of the settings, maybe it'll help you imagine how the story goes and where.**

 **I really hope you liked it, please tell me what you think; I'm going back to eating some melon! Yay me!**

 **Have a nice day, I'm out!**


	5. Chapter 4: Kararlar kararlar

**I DO NOT OWN TWILIGHT.**

 **The amazing "NewTwilightFan" edited this for me, without her this would be rubbish, thank you so much for all you!**

 **Here you go.**

* * *

Chapter 4: Kararlar; kararlar, decisions; decisions.

As the full weight of the situation settles over Isabella's mind, she begins to question her decision to stay. It has never been more clear to her that her life is not her own. As a princess and the heir to the English throne, every choice has the potential to change the lives of thousands, of millions of people. She sits, wondering about their options, asking herself questions, weighing her decision to stay. However, the dice have already been cast, the game is set, and they have no choice but to continue with what lies before them. In the end, who will win? Who will triumph? She finally admits her own naivete, thinking it would be easy to overcome any challenge with Ecved at her side. Now, after hearing his revelations, finding a solution is proving harder than she could have ever imagined.

"So, how do you plan to regain your sovereign lands without giving me in exchange?" inquires a much calmer Isabella.

Ecved, on the other hand, is less composed than she has ever seen him. "That is the dilemma I have been turning over and over in my mind since you chose to remain by my side. I can think of no idea fair enough to all parties involved."

Ecved, liberated from the heavy secret that weighed on his heart, lets out his frustration in a rush of words. He feels intense relief, even in the midst of their dire circumstances, because he is finally able to share his concerns with another being. As sultan, showing any sign of weakness is not possible, for it would diminish the respect he commands with his close advisors. He is accustomed to carrying his burdens alone, and is pleased to realise that, with Isabella, he can not only be himself, but act accordingly, with no rules holding him back.

"Perhaps we should wait until my father's arrival. Maybe he would be willing to take part in this and help us," she offers, looking for a solution to soothe Ecved's worries.

"We shan't wait until he arrives. If he sees any hesitation on my part, I fear he will want to take you back. If we stand unprepared, that will only amplify his distaste for me and affirm my unworthiness in his eyes," Ecved says, his voice rising at the end. He is scared, he has to admit, imagining her father's disapproving stare. If the king chooses to take Isabella away, Ecved knows he cannot fight him, for Isabella would never forgive him if he brought arms against the man she loved and respected so completely. But he also knows that he would never recover if he lost her.

"I understand why you would not be willing to ask for his help, but my father is excellent at reading one's character. When he sees how truthful you are, he will not hesitate to bring you aid." Isabella, in desperation, appeals to Ecved's rational mind, hoping to quell his prideful self. She knows it is not in his nature to accept help from any man, but she wants him to realise that accepting help is not a sign of weakness, rather it is a sign of wisdom and strength, for only a great leader would have faith enough to place the fate of his empire in another man's hands.

"I do not require his input or assistance. I can solve this!" Ecved says in a fit of anger. He is unwilling to admit defeat already, on this, the first great challenge he faces as a sultan. His father never required help, he thinks to himself. He was the strongest man Ecved knew and one of the most powerful sultans their dynasty had ever seen. Ecved's only dream was to live up to his father's example, and he could do no such thing if he began his reign by accepting help from a foreign power.

"So how do you think we should proceed then, on our own. Enlighten me," Isabella challenges. Ecved is not the only one getting more frustrated by the minute. Isabella sees that he is much more stubborn than it is good for him, and she, by her tone, wants him to understand that she is near her breaking point as well.

"I'm sorry, my princess, I did not intend to release my anger on you, but in truth, I believe I have reached the only possible solution."

When she crooks her head slightly to the side, encouraging him to continue, he says, "We have to lead an incursion into Mohács' area and not yield until I have recovered my father's body."

He awaits her response. Her sudden intake of air is a clear indication that her response will not be favorable.

"But you could lose many of your men. You could die yourself. No, absolutely not!" Isabella shakes her head no, to emphasize her answer. She cannot stand by and allow him to make such foolish decisions. She knows wars are often started over lesser offenses, but she has never had so much to lose.

"It is a risk I take every time I step onto battlefield. I was trained to combat, and I will not balk. All I need is your support. Knowing you are fully by my side will make it easier on me, much easier," the sultan's tone turns soft, his eyes much less tense.

"What if we act according to your original plan? What if you offer me in exchange, as arranged before? Once you have your father, and again control Mohács, we can arrange my escape."

"No, I won't throw you in the lion's den. I won't risk your life," he blinks faster, unbelieving she could think he would be willing to endanger her life in such a way.

"Nor I, yours."

Her gaze darts back and forth between his eyes. She is frantic with fear. Now Ecved feels remorseful; he knew all he offered Isabella was trouble, more than she already carried on her shoulders. For the first time, he wishes he can take it all away, to be just Ecved and Isabella. Not the sultan and the princess. Nothing and no one holding them. No tangle of threads binding their lives and futures, threatening to rip at any predicament.

"It is my duty, not only protect my people, but also to fight for what was my ancestors'," he explains, but his sense of duty and honor do not seem enough to earn Isabella's acceptance.

"So you choose to go to war." She wants to shake him, to show him how exasperated she is, but instead she holds her hands tightly in her lap.

"Yes, I do. I must discuss it with my grand vizier, of course, and the imperial council will debate about it in its forthcoming sitting. I will have to attend that one undiscovered."

"Undiscovered? What does that mean, Ecved?" Her eyebrows pull together in a curious stare.

A grinning Ecved says, "There are so many secrets I have yet to unveil to you about this castle, meleğim," His eyes twinkle with mirth. "Be ready tomorrow at dawn, and I shall show you what undiscovered means."

"All right. You have me intrigued though," Isabella gets excited, her exasperation of moments before soothed but not completely forgotten.

"Well, who is not in any royal court?" They both start to laugh at this observation.

"What about my father? How do you intend to approach him upon his arrival?"

"I thought maybe you would want to plan that part. After all, he is your father, and you know him better than the rest of us. Of course I will extend the same courtesies I always accord when receiving foreign monarchs." He takes a cup of water and drinks deeply, the events of the day having drained him more than usual.

"And by that do you mean you dazzle them with your powerful persona or fascinate them with all the grandeur of your palace?" she asks knowingly. He still dazzles her. Even the way his long fingers wrap around his cup enraptures her. The colour rises in her cheeks.

"I do both actually, but I never neglect to imply that their heads could be cut off if they displease me in any manner," And he smiles at her sweetly, as if he did not just admit to threatening the lives of all those who dared to disrespect him.

"Well, maybe you should consider omitting that tactic with my father," she says, smiling at the return of his good humour.

"Of course, I would not dare to speak in such a manner in front of your father. I still want him to approve of our union, and that, my dear, would be a first in our dynasty's history. But I always knew whatever I achieved would be out of the ordinary." With an air of renewed confidence, he looks at her, reclining against his divan.

"Do not be so full of yourself, kind sir," she retorts, finding his over confident self a little bit funny.

He almost chokes on his water. "I am not! I am merely stating facts," he manages, coughing hoarsely.

"Good. About my father, he is a very straightforward man; no need to fumble with words around him. We had better tell him things as they are."

"Tamam, although we shall have to request a private audience, I am not informing my council of our impending nuptials. They will know only of my plans to declare war against the Hapsburgs. However, upon your father's arrival, if he is agreeable to our union, I will have to ask our Şeyhülislam efendi for his blessing. He governs the religious affairs of the dynasty, and I must ask for his guidance on every decision I make. He will then issue a fatwa, which is a written answer to my inquiry, he could either approve of my decisions or refute them completely, and no sultan has a say in what decision he makes. "

"Yes, of course." She regards him a little bit dubitably as she sees he still has more to say and can read the hesitation in his eyes.

"And although all of the sultan's concubines change their religions upon entering this castle, you came here as a guest, my guest, and in a short time you became much more than that. I want you to know that, as long as I have you by my side, I do not care what god you preach, or in which way you choose to pray. I just want to have you with me as long as I shall live."

Tears sting her eyes. Isabella has to admit that she had thought of the matter, but pushed it to the back of her mind, not wanting to add to her already growing troubles. Now that Ecved has voiced his support for her, she cannot help but love him a little more for that, for being as tolerant and gracious as she thought him to be. She knew she was foolish for not discussing it sooner, and that when brought up, she would have fought tooth and nail for her own beliefs, but now, as relief takes hold of her being, she cannot help but say, "Ecved, I love you with all my heart. You have proven to me that you are the greatest man alive through and through, and for that I am eternally grateful."

"Me too, seni çok seviyorum, meleğim, Isabellam."

* * *

 **Divan: Council.**

 **Tamam: Okay.**

 **Seni çok seviyorum, meleğim, Isabellam: I love you so much, my angel, my dear Isabella.**

 **A/N: Please let me know what you thought of this, if you're still on board. Look up my twitter for some pics to help with envisioning the setting of the story.**

 **Thanks for reading, bye!**


	6. Chapter 5: Divan-ı Hümâyûn

**A/N: Hello *ducks head out from a hiding place*I hope you're all good and on board with this. I know it's been super long since I last updated, but real life tends to get so hectic at times, and with university starting back again at full speed, it just takes longer. I can promise you that I'm committed to finish the story as it is all outlined.**

 **As always major thanks are in order to the amazing NewTwilightFan, who take time from her crazy schedule to go through this for me and make it all better and add her magic to it.**

 **I added a few things after she looked it over so all mistakes are my own.**

 **Please read and review, those make my day.**

Chapter 5: Divan-ı Hümâyûn, Imperial Council.

As Ecved and Isabella finalise their plans, the princess chooses to head back to her quarters. She is quite unhappy with the sultan's conclusive idea, but has decided to accept it for the time being, since she has not been able to figure out a strategy that would achieve his objectives while still ensuring his safety. She is in turmoil over it but knows it will all be clearer upon her father's arrival in Istanbul.

When leaving Ecved's room, Isabella can't help but look more closely at the red dressed eunuchs in front of his room, with their bizarre hat wear. All the royals' rooms in the castle had two people opening their doors for them either when entering or exiting. They also announced everyone's arrival into the rooms and waited for their entrance to be either granted or declined. This was, of course, customary, as Isabella was used to in occidental castles. The sultan has, in addition, a 'Has odabaşı'; a highly trusted advisor, solely responsible for guarding the sultan's room from any intrusion. The man is trusted with the highest of secrets, for the sultan's room was considered to be the quarter where decisions were made and fates sealed. Anything turning askew, the Has odabaşı would pay with his life.

As she walks towards her own room, Isabella's mind wanders to Ecved's loving words, the way he calls her, his eyes softening, mouth lifting at the edges. She cannot help how her mind strays, leading her to the day when they would finally stand united as one, facing the world as husband and wife.

Upon arriving to her room and the servants opening her doors for her, Rose approaches her with a gentle smile, her blue eyes soft and kind.

"Princess, Aliye Sultan came by while you were gone and brought forth a few dresses and jewels as well, she said the sultan received some of the finest fabrics as he, himself, chose them and asked for them to be made into dresses for you. Aliye Sultan overlooked their sewing, which she said, was her greatest pleasure since she loves everything that has to do with the latest fashions and things of the sort," Rose stops, seeing as Isabella is quite distracted, a distant look in her eyes, a grin painting her lips, she asks, " Are you well my lady, should I bring you something? Maybe some water would be good."

Isabella, brought out of her musings, hastily responds, "No, no I'm alright. Why do you ask?"

"You just looked a bit distracted and slightly flushed is all."

"I am fine, Rose. Carry on, please."

Rose goes to continue but sees that Isabella is, yet again, lost in her own musings, so she adds in the stead, as a mischievous smile appears on her face, " Once, when I was much younger, my father took me to a fair not too far from our home, he used to trade some wooden pieces he made for things we needed. There, the most charming boy gave me one of the flowers he sold, he then offered me the brightest smile I had ever seen, all I did then was take it and hide behind my father, but the gesture made me grin like a fool for days after, I was so sad when the flower withered away and my mother was already dead by that time so I had no one to share the sadness I felt with, I believed I would forget about the boy and his flower and it affected me so much, but I guess I never did," Rose ends her little speech with a wistful smile, remembering the life she had before all this happened, before she even met the princess.

"I am sorry if it saddens you to remember such details, but I am struggling to comprehend. What are you saying?"

"Seeing you smiling the way you are right now brought forth that part of my life, as clear as day, it reminded me of how I smiled like a fool for an entire week after that happened."

"Rose! A fool, really?" Isabella looks at Rose sternly for about a second before dissolving in a fit of giggles.

"I only spoke in jest, but tell me truthfully, what is the cause of your happiness? I would have expected you to be a little bit melancholic to stay here longer. Does it have anything to do with the sultan?" Now Rose is smiling wide, showing the princess she knows more than she is letting on.

"It has everything to do with him; I think a long conversation between the two of us is in order," She says going to sit .

"Tell me, princess. It has been days since you last told me anything," she prompts, taking the Isabella's hands in her own and squeezing. Such a gesture was not common between princess and maid, but the two of them were closer than what their ranks implied, Rose being Isabella's only confidante within the castle.

Isabella had first placed her trust in Rose when, during her fourteenth summer, her father confined her to her rooms, after one of the newly solicited guards of the court threatened her life with a knife to her throat, he was, as it was uncovered later, an intruder working for an enemy's lines, but no one knew who it was that enlisted him, for he chose the coward's way out and killed himself, upon being surrounded by the other guards present that day. King Charles, who saw his daughter saved in time from the clutches of that bastard , was shaken to his core that his daughter was harmed between the walls of his own castle, prevented her from ever leaving her room, in a desperate attempt to protect her . Isabella, driven mad with boredom, slipped from her rooms each day wearing Rose's cloak to take her horse from the royal stables and ride free across the countryside. Rose had pledged her loyalty and devotion to the princess, putting her own life and position in the king's castle in the balance when she concealed Isabella's absence. While the other maids gossiped and complained behind the backs of the ladies of the court, Rose held her own counsel, never sharing any details of Isabella's life or habits. The princess had few peers, and ever fewer women she could call friend. The bond between them year after year, so when Isabella had to choose one maid to accompany her on her journey to Austria, nobody but Rose would do.

Drawing closer to her maid, Isabella whispers, "Ecved Sultan has offered me a proposal of marriage… and I have accepted. But not a breath of this to anyone! I know few besides our own guardsmen understand English, but it is far better to be safe than sorry," Isabella says casually, rearranging the bracelet she wore on her left wrist, as if she didn't just deliver life altering news to her friend.

Rose's eyebrows climb so high up her forehead that they almost touch her hairline. While she has observed the attraction between the two royals, she is shocked to hear of the new course their lives will take. The implication of such news forces her tone higher than usual, "What? Are you sure about this? And what happens with Prince Ferdinand?" she says, her voice a bit strained.

"I would not have made such a commitment if I were not certain. We both are. And as for Ferdinand, you know all too well I was not keen on marrying him, and the absence of a signed contract between our fathers will make the escape from that marriage easier."

"He is not forcing you, is he?" Isabella wants to smack her for thinking in such a manner; she might be a young woman with no force that measures up to Ecved's, but in no way she would let him control her in that aspect, force her to accept something she would not have wanted a part in. She knows deep down the strength he has, he could use whenever and in any manner he pleases, but she relishes in the fact that he has not once overstepped such boundaries as bestowing on her unwelcome or inappropriate touches.

Maybe he has a hidden agenda behind every step of the way, after all he could have his choice of women, in fact he has, a harem full of them. But Isabella didn't let those thoughts flood her mind, she needn't worry right about it right this moment.

"No, why would you think that? We are in love!"

"Princess, pardon my boldness, but I am scared for your welfare. That is all. I see how your smile shines and lights up your entire face at any mention of the sultan's name. Knowing him better has brought happiness to your heart, but I cannot stomach the thought that he does not share your feelings. That would only lead to heartache, and I would not stand for anyone treating you so ill."

Isabella stops to ponder Rose's words. She knows her sudden outburst came from the goodness of her heart. She also cannot help but feel appreciative to still have someone from her home with her, akin to a good friend, in the midst of the chaos that threatens to turn her fate upside down.

"I appreciate your thoughtfulness Rose, I am really grateful to have you here with me," says Isabella, returning to her position next to Rose. "And that brings me to another subject I wanted to broach with you." She takes a deep breath, a sign this subject is not an easy topic for her to discuss. "When my father comes, we will tell him of the plans. However that goes, I wanted to tell you that you are free to return with him if that is your preference. I won't hold you here far away from our lands, from where you lived your entire life," Isabella finally says, calmly and with a voice so low, you'd think she was whispering. She is scared Rose will run home as soon as she can, leaving her alone in a foreign land, with nobody who knows and understands her, shares memories of their homeland; her favorite foods, the smell of pine logs burning in the great fireplace, the chime of iron shod hoofs on the cobblestone courtyard, the sounds of the minstrel tuning his harp. She is struck by a wave of homesickness.

"Princess, I would not go anywhere without you. The day I started serving you, I vowed I would do so until my last breath or until you have no use of me anymore, and thus I will gladly stay here by your side."

Isabella is touched by her maid's declaration; she was scared Rose would go and leave her to her new life alone. Rose has been the only constant in her young years, and seeing her go would have hurt Isabella a great deal.

She hears a slight knock on her door, then the doors opening, the sultan stands there, dressed all in black, a turban with a broach holding it together on his head. He looks even more handsome and mysterious than usual, Isabella admits to herself, gazing over every little detail of his attire.

Ecved smiles crookedly and enters her room, looking over her figure appreciatively. In her sapphire blue dress, she looks like the most precious gem of all, as it contrasts against her porcelain white, delicate complexion. She wore no jewellery not wanting it to get in her way because she knew naught about what her day would bring, not that caught the sultan's attention, who's eyes were drawn elsewhere, appreciating how her bodice accentuated the curves of her breasts and hips, as her skirts flowed from her narrow waist and gathered around her feet resembling a waterfall. She had an ethereal look about her, more than ever, he vowed to make her his, so she could be in her rightful place, beside him.

"Good morning, beautiful princess," he says finally, standing taller,his eyes returning to meet her curious stare. Her hair, loose and uncovered, framing her face in delicate brown waves, tempts him to reach out and touch it, to run the silky strands between his fingers.

"Good morning to you, too. So what is in store for us this morning?" she says in eagerness, ready to skip formalities and cut straight to the heart of the intrigue. She had always been impatient and impulsive, even as a young child. She could never wait for any length of time before an event because she hated the suspense. She despised surprises of any sort.

"We first have to add something to your attire. Although, you do look absolutely perfect, as always," he says smoothly as he hands her a gold velvet cape.

"We are going to witness one of my divan's sessions, but the sultan is never allowed to be present unless for very trivial reasons. That never deterred my ancestors from listening in on their viziers, so I am only perpetuating the tradition," he says, guiding her through the castle hallways, still lit with torches, one hand resting gently against her lower back.

"I informed my grand vizier 'Derviş paşa' about the impending war last night, therefore this morning's session will revolve solely around the matter. He has to discuss the decision with the other viziers, hear their opinions and such. Although my mind is set, I wish to see each of the trusted men of my divan give an honest opinion, not influenced by their incessant desire to please me."

To witness the divan's session, they must access another part of the castle, an independent edifice where the notables gather and discuss the matters of the dynasty from dawn to dusk.

The sultan and his princess stroll the long hallways unimpeded, the flames of the torches flickering as they pass by. They soon reach their destination, a small room with a door carefully concealed by the walls' mosaic. Ecved lets Isabella inside, verifying that nobody has observed their entrance, before pulling the secret door closed behind them. He silently draws her over to a window which is covered by an ornate, gold-plated screen. The gaps are so small; the viziers will be none the wiser that they are being watched.

"Let the magic begin," he whispers to Isabella. "Look," he whispers, motioning for her to peer through the small holes.

As she follows his lead, she sees different men, all of a certain age, sitting and talking animatedly. Their voices carry clearly up to their hiding place, but Isabella cannot decipher what is being said, except for the occasional mention of the Hapsburgs name, so she turns to the sultan. His head is slightly bent to the side to better listen in. She follows his reactions as thoughts and emotions flit across his face, his reactions to what he is hearing as transparent as an audible translation.

Utter contentment fills her when she realises how easily she can read him. With every other person in his elaborate court, even his mother and sister, he has erected high walls to guard his real persona. He keeps the doors of his mind tightly fastened against any intruder who attempts to open them, but when he is alone with her, those walls dissolve, and she can read every emotion that flickers in his eyes. She stands there hoping he can see through her the same way she does him, knowing she more than let her own walls crumble to the ground. She looks on, fascinated as concern marrs his features. and every thought that marred his face.

Right then, the sultan's head whips with a start, a breath leaving him harshly. He looks to Isabella and nods for her to follow him outside. Something is amiss with the council. Isabella knows with certainty, Ecved does not like what he has heard.

And thus she was left wondering, what if the council refused to be of any help? And more importantly, how would they face the Hapsburgs when danger arises?

 **Thanks for reading, I hope you like it so far. Until next time, bye!**


	7. Chapter 6: Hain

**A/N: I know I know, it's been a while, but truth be told I did not have a single moment to myself during the last couple of months, with finals, family events and life really. I also wrote a piece for the PSILY contest which took up some of my free time.**

 **The beginning of this chapter was beta'ed, as always, by "NewTwilightFan", that woman is amazing, as simple as that, she's just wonderful so thank you so much.**

 **I added lots after she's last seen it so any error is mine, sorry!**

 **Here you go, hope you'll enjoy it.**

Chapter 6: Hain, traitor.

Ecved does not utter a word on their way back to the castle. The silence between the pair, deafening, Isabella fears the magnitude of what was said in the divan, if it triggered such a response from Ecved.

The castle is now livelier that the sun finally shines high in the sky, but it does nothing to uplift the gloom that surrounds the couple walking side by side, passing through the hallways. No one questions the sultan's whereabouts as all bow when he passes them by.

Upon entering his room, Isabella rushes to ask him about the matter, "Ecved," She says having his attention, "What is it? Is it so gravely that it put you in such a state?"

He takes both her hands in his and goes to sit, guiding her to take place beside him, "Not all men were agreeable to my decision, and that was expected, but one opinion stood out. 'Nasuh Paşa', the 'Rumeli Kazaskeri' of the Ottoman Empire, he is a chief judge in Rumelia, the european part of our lands. When refusing the prospect of a war against the Hapsburgs, he was not as collected as he always is; he seemed antsy, asking questions he should not ask, wanting for too many details too soon. His demeanour was unsettling, and then he said something that made me realise he knows more than he should."

Isabella feels the blood drain out of her body, all colour leaves her as she waits for Ecved to continue, she squeezes his hand that still holds hers, urging him to continue.

"He knows that my father was killed by a traitor, one of our own. For all intents and purposes, everyone believes it was a Hapsburg kinsman who did it, only two other men knew, and they are highly trusted advisers, they would never betray me that way, they have so much to lose."

Isabella sits absorbing all the new information he gives her, following his every movement, the paces he makes as he now stands, explaining everything that has happened, Isabella finally understands what he discovered, his following words serving only to consolidate what she already caught on.

"I think I finally found the traitor I've been looking for and he has been between us all along," Ecvd says bitterly, through gritted teeth as he tightens his fists, rage seemingly taking the better part of his collected temperament.

"I cannot believe I did not catch him sooner," Then he goes to grab the nearest object to his right and throws it across the room, not realising it is his inkwell until it shatters to pieces, the ink inside making a small puddle.

Isabella's eyes widen, astonished at the sudden outburst of anger. Looking at Ecved who stands slightly hunched, breathing harshly as his anger flares, his eyes start to blur and his lungs burn.

Isabella goes to take his hands, as delicately as she can, as not to startle him and guides him towards his balcony, leaving the stifling room, both of them breathe in the fresh air while looking out at the Bosphorus, the calm waters soothing away their nerves.

"I cannot believe my father trusted him," He says after a while of them just staring out at the channel's blue hues. "I cannot fathom that I did not see his true colours sooner and kept him between my own, his head will be cut off for great trahison," His anger rises again.

"Ecved, aşkım," He lips lift slightly at her use of the endearment for him, her accent still prominent when saying the foreign letters, "You need to calm down, you cannot go cutting heads with no tangible proof, and if he really is the traitor you are looking for, you will need him to lead you to those who are using him," Isabella reasons with him, using her calm delicate voice to bring him out of his angry, desperate state.

"You are absolutely right, I am so incredibly sorry if I scared you, my anger got the better of me and all I saw was red," As he looks down at Isabella, the small yet strong woman that has so much power over his mind, heart and soul.

"No need to apologise, as long as that anger is not aimed at me."

"Never!" He promises as he takes he face in between his hands and levels his eyes with hers.

"Sultanım, valide sultan geldiler," Ecved sighs exasperatedly whilst the guard who announced his mother's arrival, bows down in front of him.

"Gelsin!" The sultan barks out at the guard then he kisses Isabella's forehead in such a tender manner contrasting with the harsh tone he used merely seconds ago.

As the pair parts and takes a respectable distance from each other, Esma Sultan comes to stand in front of them, curtsying to the both of them."Aslanım. Isabella."

"Validem," And Ecved goes to kiss her hand. "What brought you here this early, mother?"

"Oğlum, I know your time is consumed with the matters of the Ottoman Devlet, " She says, speaking entirely in English as Ecved forbade her to use any other language in the presence of Isabella. "But there is one important duty you neglected for far too long."

Ecved listens to her intently, trying to reign in his impatience, he does not intend to get angry at her, but his mother dictating what he has to do is far from what he would want to endure at this moment.

She continues, ignoring her tight lipped son, "No one walked the 'altın yol' yet and everyone is becoming restless, including me."

"It is not a discussion for such a time, mother!" He says, trying to end the discussion

"Son, you are ignoring an important duty, you know you are not fully strong until you accomplish it," She presses on further.

"You do not dictate which matters I tend to first, mother. We are done here, çekilebilirsin."

Esma Sultan has no other solution then, than to bow to her son and exit his room, feeling all too furious, herself.

 **Wow that was cold! I'm out!**

 **Aşkım: My love.**

 **Aslanım: My lion.**

 **Validem: My mother.**

 **Oğlum: My son.**

 **Devlet: State.**

 **Altın yol: Golden road.**

 **Çekilebilirsin: You can leave.**


	8. Chapter 7: Part 1: Altın yol

**A/N: Hello everyone, I know I've been absent for a long time, but trust me life wasn't easy for the last few months. I missed writing and I missed you all. I got back slowly but surely to this story which means a lot to me.**

 **Chapter seven will be divided in two parts, this is the first one, I hope I'll get the second one fast, it's mostly written already. This is unbetaed as I was in a hurry to get it to you people if you're still with me. Here goes nothing...**

Chapter 7: Altın yol, golden way.

Isabella feels, more than ever, left out, she tries to understand what could cause the sultan's ire other than the fact he found a traitor among his men, she tries to make sense of Esma Sultan's words but her efforts are void. As she stares at the hard set of Ecved's glare, she wonders if it's better to leave this matter undiscussed. But she wouldn't fathom the wait.

"What was Esma Sultan talking of?" She hates the indelicacy of how she asks for a response but moreover she hates unanswered questions.

The sultan looks defeated; he finally decides to take a rest on one of the cushions that were laid on the carpets, the shimmering of the golden threads on his attire magnified by the subtle sun rays making their way into the room.

"Come forth, princess," He says, patting the cushion to his right. "Please."

Isabella obliges, seeing as he seems almost desperate when asking her to go to him. She takes the few steps separating them with measured caution, scared of what truths might come out.

"The 'Altin yol' means 'golden way' literally. Very few people have the chance of walking through it. It is the hallway that connects the haramlek, where the women of the harem live, to my room, here."

Isabella sits, forehead creasing, absorbing all this new information thrown at her.

With his head bowed down, the sultan continues, "It is meant for the chosen concubines to walk through, when the sultan requests the presence of one. Mother was complaining about the fact that a girl has yet to take it and share my bed thus the chances of producing an heir null. And that is my first and most important duty of all, ensure and preserve the succession to the throne of the Osman family." He nods his head, trying to make sense of the duties he has to honour as a sovereign while omitting all the desires he has as young man, whose sole dream is to be free of any restraints that come with being a sultan.

The sultan's breaths quicken as he notices Isabella's silence for the last few moments and when he finally dares to look up, he searches her features for any hint of what she might think as he finds her deep in thought.

He can't help his mouth lifting at the corners, the way she scrunches her nose, and frowns a little when she really thinks matters through, are of the reasons he started to fall for this young princess. He would pay a great fortune to know what goes on in her, sure to be, lovely mind.

For the first time since she has been here, Isabella decides not to be quick tempered, she asks him, looking him in the eyes, "And what do you want to do about it then?"

Ecved doesn't even ponder, he says right after " Not a thing! For me there is only one woman who would walk through it and she would do so as my wife, and that is you Isabella. I don't even want you to come to me through it, because I want you to be with me, all the time. No need for me to request your presence, no need for etiquette and rules. I want you here, beside me, as I imagine a real husband and wife would share a life together, unbound by stupid laws. Ruled only by the love they feel for each other."

Her eyes shine with unshed tears, her mind unable to form a coherent thought; she assesses Ecved carefully whose face emanates the sincerity of what he spoke of, she then looks down to her wrangling fingers in her lap, and only then does she start to wonder if what he expressed could one day be a reality, their reality. She wonders if dream and life would meet, for them at least. And that scared her a great deal. But dear god, could she imagine them have the life he coloured for them moments before.

 **Please tell me what you thought of it! I need your feedback. Until next time ;)**


	9. Chapter 7: Part 2: Altın yol

**A/N: Hello everybody, I know I promised to publish earlier, but I didn't even stay more than a** couple **of days in the same place. I actually went sightseeing and visited this incredible castle that gave WWC feels and I imagined this entire story unfolding there.**

 **Quick question: When reading the story, how do you pronounce Edward's name?**

 **Thank you for reading! Love you all.**

 **This is unbeta'ed, because I wanted to get it out of the way as fast as I could, so all mistakes are mine ;)**

Chapter 7: Altın yol, golden way. (Part2)

It is a few hours after dawn, the sun sitting well in the sky, casting soft rays on a calm and beautiful Istanbul. The hustle happening in the alleys loud and clear, children running about, sellers calling their prices, buyers bargaining. All of them oblivious to the historical discussion happening within the walls of Topkapı Sarayı up the Golden Horn.

The rise in Isabella's voice shows her slight anger at the indifference of her interlocutor, her irritation sensed, "I am not asking for the rules to be changed, I am telling you I would, in any manner, abide by them."

After leaving Ecved with no words exchanged, Isabella pondered all night long her possibilities, she wouldn't even tell Rose of the happenings, she needed to sort all of this calmly by herself. She came to a decision thus her presence in Esma Sultan apartments'.

Esma Sultan looks outraged, "You are a royal yourself; you know how much rules are vital to our lifestyle, they govern us as much as they govern our people."

Isabella counters immediately, knowing well enough the customs with rules and such, "But they are often omitted; as we both know; to suit our wants and needs."

"So let me hear of this, you want to annul centuries of rules and traditions our greatest sultans wrote, respected and perpetuated for your own selfishness."

Esma Sultan doesn't let the young princess defend her self as she continues to speak, "What if you cannot bear children or they all are stillborns or all of them girls. And god forbid my son dies. Do you know what would happen?" The last words are not meant as a question but rather a statement as Esma Sultan continues, "Those rules were established in the first place to protect us, to secure the continuity of our family. We do not function the same way westerners do. You were set to rule your country one day, but if Sultan Ecved is not with us anymore, Aliye won't be the one to take his place, war would be declared, people killed, us among those hanged in the courts outside," as she points towards the window in her room, the anger in her voice accentuated by the slight tremble of her finger.

"The throne will be in the hands of the strongest and fastest to reach the inside of the castle. Do you see blood spilled everywhere Isabella? Can you imagine it? Do not think this is a farfetched sketch of a wild imagination, this happens every time a sultan dies, but do you know what makes it more frightening, Isabella? The oldest male, who is in line for the throne, orders the killing of his brothers, no matter how old they may be, and their entire families. One. By. One. The princes are strangled by heartless men in their sleep." Her eyes redden at the end of her statement, from the raw emotions that surge through her when talking of such a horrible tale.

Isabella can see all of this massacre, imagines it all as if it were happening in front of her eyes, and as disbelieving as she was of such a thing occurring, she was not a stranger to human cruelty, fratricide was the first crime ever committed on earth as she learnt from the bible and she believed Esma Sultan herself was witness to a comparable event in the past. But her heart wouldn't let her accept such archaic thinking even after hearing of the barbaric acts, she has her mind set on following what her heart wants, but she subdues her tone to reach to the kinder side she believes the sultana has, "Please, I am asking for your support from a woman to another, a woman who is in love with your son, who wants to share with him this feeling with no one else intruding."

Esma's expression softens a little, the mother in her believes Isabella's battle to be most noble of them all, love, for her own son, no other.

She tilts her head slightly, taking in the determination of Isabella to fight and stand for her choices no matter the outcome. She could see it in the way the held herself, in her bottomless eyes.

After long passing moments of both of them breathing calmly the thickened air that surrounds the both, she finally says, "What did you want my help for, then?"

The surprise in Isabella's eyes can be seen from afar, for they grow twice their size, but she rapidly regains her composure, "I had hoped you would implore the divan to grant us two springs of for an heir to be born after our union, and by that you would be giving Sultan Ecved and I your full blessing. Of course, if by the end of those two springs I have yet to be with child, you can proceed with the old rules," The last statement tears at Isabella's heart, but she knows it is the right agreement to make in the moment being.

" I hate it but I agree to help you Isabella, two springs from the day you marry my son, if you have not provided me with a male heir our agreement is null, " And she raises her hand in a dismissing manner, letting Isabella know their time came to end.

Isabella curtsies to Esma Sultan in a respecting gesture and leaves her apartments, trying to reign in the feelings that threaten to spill from her at any moment. She could not bring her self to believe her wish might become true, and at that thought a smile escapes her as she makes hasty steps to her own room.

 **Please tell me what you thought of it, and answer the question, this should be fun!**

 **I tell you the answer in the next chap ;)**


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